Your Two Fathers
by Wicked Child
Summary: An Alucard narrative regarding Integra. Idiotic title but you'll have to deal with it. I know there are several similar fics out there, but this is my take on it. Happy hunting.


Disclaimer: I do not own Hellsing, therefore I do not own Hellsing.  
  
AN: Okay I've just recently completed watching the Hellsing anime. Thank God for fansubs! I have not read any of the manga as I can't read Japanese but I have read up on some of it. This is from Alucard's POV and a narrative at that. From the bit of Hellsing ff I've read, a lot of it is from Alucard's POV and a narrative but since this is my first Hellsing ff, I feel it only fitting as I have yet to have a full handle on the characters true selves. I apologize for any OOCness of the three main characters mentioned. There may be some minor spoilers in there, nothing too horrible though. Please be gentle!  
Her Two Dads  
  
by Wicked Child  
  
Father's Day has come and gone, another year without your precious father, spent instead with two surrogates. One who is ever devoted and full of love as though you were his own spawn. The other? Well the other is just that, something other. I don't mind being the other though, it seems to suit everyone just fine.  
  
Despite losing your father, you love Walter just as much as he loves you in that father-daughter way you humans seem to need. He's the responsible father is he not? The one you can lean on, depend on, and fear for without repercussion from your own dogmatic beliefs.  
  
I, on the other hand, am your childlike father. I am the irresponsible one needing to be babysat, restrained, sealed, and more often than not berated for just being. I am the one you can't afford to fear for due to your dogmatic beliefs and self-imposed rules. But you do don't you? You fear for me even when you shouldn't. What would your father say little Hellsing?  
  
Walter and I have been at your side since you took over this organization. We raised you, an unlikely pair of Shinigami/steward and No Life King/servant. No wonder you gave up dressing as a woman with our influence. And we did influence you didn't we? While Walter nurtured your intellect, beliefs, and humanity, I nurtured your resolve, anger, cold heart, and unspoken desire.  
  
Evil am I? Maybe so. But tell me, who was it you called out for when you awoke from a nightmare? Who was it who truly taught you about my kind and the worthless pieces of trash that think they are of my caliber? Who was it that you told your deepest and darkest secrets? Granted you were never sure that I was present for you bedroom confessions, but neither was Walter.  
  
What was it you gave your responsible father this year? Ah yes! It was such a small gesture and yet it meant so much to the old fool. You wore a dress for the first time in many a year. You actually smiled a genuine smile, not the smirk I have grown fond of and helped create. For the first time since you were still a little one, you acted like a lady. Walter was rather surprised but pleasantly so. You two shared an intimate dinner, discussing everything but work. I laugh at this because no matter what, my name is mentioned. I am always mentioned aren't I? Walter's rival, and yet this was not of my making now was it?  
  
I know you to not be such a sentimental weakling, and yet this past Father's Day you became one. You tried to hide your real present from everyone, but I know everything that goes on in this house. You had decided to go rather, mushy for lack of a better term, and created a photo album filled with pictures of the two of you since the time you were born. It makes the Shinigami cry. Again I laugh.  
  
But despite the fact that you loathe who and what I am, you did not leave me out of this Father's Day. Against your better judgment, and your beliefs, you allowed me to feed the way I used to when I was free. I was rather taken aback but I did not question. But tell me little Hellsing, why did you accompany me? Was it to remind yourself that you should not feel so fond of me because I am a killer and a proud one at that? Or was it because you needed to see for yourself your darkest desire?  
  
I kept careful watch of you that night, of your feelings, and your thoughts. Each victim taken, slaughtered, and drained by Hellsing's best weapon against the undead and observed by his master. I noticed that you were not disgusted by my antics. Perhaps you are used to them after ten years? You did not fear me or what I was doing. You know I cannot kill you unless you order me to do so. And even then I would not kill you even if it meant my freedom. I have much bigger plans for the future of the last heir of Hellsing than simple death. You guarded your thoughts from me and that made the night less fun. But your unspoken thoughts were screaming through your veins. You blood boiled, heart raced, I sensed pent up desire pouring out. I smile now at the recent memory. I made you wet.  
  
~~~  
  
Those pathetic fools of the Round Table continually compare you to your father. If your father were a good leader of Hellsing he would have known that his brother would try to kill you. He would have been able to handle me without sealing me in the dungeon. You are better than him. I have lived long enough to know good leaders, though I have killed many of those leaders but I have killed far more unfitting humans.  
  
You compare yourself to your father; I suppose it's only natural. I have not been human in centuries so your ways are foreign. In one respect I do know, I compare others to myself but they all fall short. They are all inferior, vampires, FREAKS, and especially humans, except for one.  
  
You have intrigued me since day one. Although I am bound to this house and to the contract with your father, I must say that you are the reason that I stay and am rather agreeable. I may not have had blood for twenty years prior to that night, but never had blood tasted so sweet, so delicious. I have yet to curb my craving for you or your blood. Your blood revived me, brought me back, woke me up, and made life so much more interesting. If given the chance, I may have taken you then. I would be your master, the way I am the police girl's master. But I am happy that I had not taken you then. You are far more interesting, far more beautiful, and far more womanly than when you were a new teenager. Now would be the perfect time to make you mine. You are not ready though. In time, and that time is coming. I can feel it and I most assuredly can taste it.  
  
~~~  
  
It is now Christmas. You allow the house to be decorated albeit sparsely. Hellsing has more important things to worry about than hanging up lights and ornaments. This is a first. You normally allow this to be one aspect of your life that resembles something of normalcy. I am usually banished to the dungeons, let out only to take care of business, and then returned, until the festivities are over so as not to remind you that you have more pressing matters at hand.  
  
I find this strange, interesting, but strange. I ask you why I am allowed to roam about when I am usually ordered to stay away. I tell you that I do not mind my banishment during this time of year. I have not cared about Christmas for so long as it no longer resembles anything of meaning. I see guilt flash across your face when I mention your usual Christmas orders. Why do you feel guilty Integra?  
  
Your answer is swift and businesslike. You can't afford to track me down in that maze when I am needed for a mission. I remind you that all you ever need to do is call my name and I will hear. You are my master are you not?  
  
This is a busy year this year. More FREAKS than we are used to seeing during this time. The ghouls are getting more and more independent and free- thinking. We know this is not a good sign. And that damned priest is back. Although I love the challenge he brings, he is getting rather tiresome. If the police girl was stronger, I'd let her deal with him. However, that would only bring about her second death.  
  
His superior has been back as well. Your favorite catholic, Enrico Maxwell. I admire him for his audacity to call you swine to your face and mine but I hate him for the same reason. You wonder why I accompany you on your visits with him. It is not because I fear for your life and I am bound to protect you. I have read that man's thoughts, and while I have rather sadistic thoughts about you, his are more repulsive. The things he would like to do to you make me eager to rip him apart. I must admit though, both of our minds are rather sick, sadistic, and repulsive. But at least mine are genuine.  
  
~~~  
  
It is Christmas morning. How does that ridiculous poem go? Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse. Interesting how the writer never mentioned the house vampire. The night's mission is done and I am prepared to rest, maybe do some dream hopping. I stop when I see that Walter has left another medical packet of blood for me. It is still warm and fresh. For the first time in many centuries, I am confused. The blood I normally am given is chilled so as not to spoil, never is it fresh. I carefully open the tube and sniff. It is definitely fresh and I can't resist tasting it.  
  
My eyes widen. Without wasting any more precious time, I drink every last drop, none of it wasted. I see a small card sitting on my table.  
  
Merry Christmas Alucard.  
  
This is a most interesting development. First you allow me to feast on humans for Father's Day and you accompany me. For Christmas you give me your blood, fresh, sweet, pure, and even more delicious than I remember. I can't resist thanking you in person.  
  
I arrive in your room through the wall. I have not been in here since the Bubbancy incident. You are sitting atop your bed, wearing decidedly female pajamas. At least you act like a woman in the privacy of your room.  
  
You get straight to the point. "Were you unsatisfied Alucard?"  
  
I can't help but smirk. You're looking at me with your sternest mask in place. I see through it. "On the contrary my master."  
  
"Why are you here?" You watch me warily as I approach the bed. It occurs to me that I have never slept in your bed, lie upon it, or touched it whether it be out of selfish desire on my part or to torment and annoy you.  
  
I just stare down at you. It is rare thing for me to say so I have a hard time getting it out. "Thank you, my master."  
  
You turn away and begin concentrating on the television set. You have it set to an old movie. I remember when the damned thing was released. Twenty years spent in the dungeon was a nice respite from the annual Christmas tradition. You never tire of it though.  
  
"You're welcome. You may leave now."  
  
Again I cannot help but smirk. I drift back into the shadows to take my leave. As I pass through the wall I say something that I know will make your heart race and your body heated.  
  
"Next time, you should just give it to me yourself. Only then will I be truly satisfied." 


End file.
